A Whiskey for Her
by Nightly73
Summary: A short one-shot I've been debating on whether I should post it or not. Vi is still new to the force and will soon be official partners with the sheriff. Taking a night out with her lame new colleagues she decides to visit a favourite pub. She finds solace and something unexpected there.


_**AN- Hey fam! So this July/August was insane. Now that September is on its way, I will have a bit of free time to work more on some writing. I am about another 5 or 4 more chapters left for The Sheriff and The Soldier, which, I'm super happy to see nearly completed. Dakota and the gang have been at the back of my mind for the past two months demanding that I finish their story. I've also released the first two chapters of my original story about my gay werewolf dweebs on fiction press. If you wanna check that out, plus my writing and personal Tumblr as well as my ko-fi page, take a look at my bio. Without any further adieu, have something that has been a warm-up piece I've been working on for the past three years now. I've rewritten this thing like 800 times. Thanks for your support, I hope this fic finds all of you well 3**_

Vi hated the 'underground' Piltovian technopunk scene. The venues are usually filled with too drunk mid-forty housewives, whose cheating husbands let them loose for a 'girls night out'. It wasn't like the legendary raves of Zaun, where laws or claims of power meant nothing. Where people could get lost in the flashing lights and pounding beats.

That was where the real fun laid.

The number of people she would bring home after a night of dancing most likely broke some kind of record.

But here?

Void's above the only thing she could pick up is some blubbering wife who wants to get back at her husband.

Too much vengeance and drama for one night.

This, however, wasn't the reason why Vi was in such a despicable joint. The 'boys' from the cop shop wanted to get together and tear up the town. They invited Vi, promising good drinks and plenty of women. Rather than declining, she thought that after the last few busts she deserved a night out.

Sadly, this blew ass.

Her coworkers were long gone, either too drunk to stand or too busy dealing with blubbering housewives.

Giving up, she took a great sigh and left the establishment feeling fairly bummed out and in the need of some kind of greasy substance.

She didn't walk far before she came up to her favourite pub, the Brass Gauntlet. Humming to herself, she agreed, instantly craving a Bilgewatian sea bass butty, a specialty that this pub was quite famous for.

The reason why she enjoyed this place came in three parts.

One, the food and drink were good, cheap and usually what she needed. Two, it was a wooden establishment with polished down seats and a lovely smiling old bartender that easily held the feeling of welcome warmth. Three, it was quiet and close to work. Sure the room could be filled with patrons, but it could never get any louder then whispered conversations. Usually, after a long day of hearing the sheriff bitch and complain about Vi's work methods, she would come here to destress and breathe.

Tonight, the basement pub had a small handful of patrons. A group clustered together at the far end chatted quietly amongst themselves, sipping their drinks as they nodded along with whoever was telling a story.

At the other end was a sole individual, huddled in their own booth.

Vi practically fainted as she recognized the individual. Not a day in her life did she ever think Sheriff Caitlyn Deramore would ever step foot in a pub of her own free volition.

With curiosity and a few pints fueling her forward, she made her way to the sheriff's table.

The sheriff had her back to the entrance. Her long raven black hair was tied up into a messy bun, revealing her pale swan-like neck. Her purple petticoat had been removed leaving her in her white blouse that seemed a bit to loose around the neck.

"What is a girl like you, doin' in a place like this?" Vi grinned as she stood at the head of the table to face the sheriff head-on.

Caitlyn quirked an eyebrow at the pinkette. Her brilliant ice blue eyes were accentuated by heavy shadows and wire-rimmed reading glasses. As to what Vi expected, her white blouse had two buttons undone, revealing a bit more of her neck and her collarbone. Vi returned the expression with her own raised eyebrow as she witnessed the rolled-up sleeves revealing the tense forearms of the Sheriff. Her right hand twirled the tumbler of whiskey; the single ice cube gently tapping the glass in the movement.

"Doing your paperwork," Caitlyn replied coldly.

Vi's eyes lowered to the small stack of yellowed sheets. In Caitlyn's left hand was a decorative ink pen.

"Ah, shit, sorry Sheriff. What did I do wrong? I honestly thought I got it right this time. I even got Albert to help me out on this one." Vi admitted sheepishly.

The Sheriff gave a great sigh before she took a swig of her whiskey. "It's alright deputy."

"Why here though? Why not at your office?" Vi asked perplexed.

"Because the bullpen is insanely full with that shimmer bust and the captives will not cease their incessant caterwauling of proclaimed innocence." She muttered lowly, taking another long swig of the amber liquid. "It is very quiet here and the whiskey selection is not terrible."

"Mind if I sit wit' ya? Maybe show me where I went wrong?" Vi asked, both hoping the sheriff will say no and yes.

Caitlyn mulled the thought over, watching the liquid in her glass swirl. With a sigh, she nodded toward the bar. "Get me another round then, deputy."

Vi chuckled. "Not a problem. What's your poison, boss?"

"The dragon's breath whiskey from Freljord. One rock, please." Caitlyn replied as she continued the work set before her.

"Coming right up." Vi turned on her heels With mixed emotions curdling her gut.

She wasn't afraid of Caitlyn, nor hated her. She was just so…uptight. Too serious and work-focused. Usually, the day shift crew would go together to the leather boot, a Piltovian warden stomping ground, with expensive prices to accommodate the large salaries of the trained officers. The shift would all go together, have a pint and unwind before going home.

Every time, Caitlyn would decline.

Out of the six months that Vi had been working with her, she didn't see her cut loose once.

And within a weeks time, she should be working more frequently with Caitlyn once she graduated the progressive and special program they implemented to make sure she was ready for the job.

Frankly, Vi was both dreading and too excited to work with this intense woman.

Maybe this could be the kick starter to get to know each other better.

For Vi to properly understand the sheriff and her insane work ethic.

With a quick nod of thanks and an exchange of coins between her and the bartender, Vi walked back with a pint and a whiskey tumbler.

"You have tomorrow off, right?" Vi asked as she passed the glass to Caitlyn's slim dexterous hands.

"Thank you," Caitlyn nodded. "Yes, I have every Sunday off."

Vi seated herself on the bench opposite of Caitlyn. The pinkette observed the tight-lipped exchange as she flipped to the back of a page and scratched on another. Her jawline became tight with annoyance.

"You seem a bit ticked that you have it off." Vi deduced, taking a mouthful of beer.

Caitlyn snorted. "I am indeed 'ticked'. Albert handles the scheduling and insists that I have that day off, rather than allowing me to work on cases."

"Albert is a good guy. Not to pry or anything but do you ever feel like you could amount to him since you're his replacement?"

The sheriff sighed heavily. "Albert was a great Sheriff. The community loved him, the politicians couldn't get enough of him. However, as much as I hate to say it, I do the job better. He has been a great mentor and has really taught me some valuable lessons with the social aspects of being sheriff. He has trained and trusted me to do better than him, and I'm glad I can fulfill his wishes. I just wish the man would properly retire."

"Well obviously his paperwork reviewing could do better." Vi joked gently.

"In all honesty, you didn't do anything wrong. Your handwriting is just despicable and I need to give the mayor this report so he can show our hard work to the council."

"How rude, Sheriff. It's not like I learned how to properly write like six months ago." Vi grinned teasingly. Then a thought crossed her mind, making her eyebrows furrow in concentration. "Why does the council need to see my report?"

"They are putting a lot of resources to use for you. They want proof that you are actually capable of being my partner, let alone a legal protector of the city." Caitlyn explained.

"So you're helping me look good?"

"In those terms, yes. As much as you seem like you are capable of turning in criminals, they want to see you be an officer, a deputy. Not some loose canon vigilante with no respect for the rules. Sure you may be completing that program, but they want to see your training applied to the real world."

Vi snorted loudly, causing the table on the other side of the bar to take a quick peek behind them. "But that's what I am, Sheriff. I'm not here to slap the wrist of some city hooligans. I'm here to stop the real bad guys. The ones who'd take kids, sell the harmful chemical shit, try to bring terror to good innocent people."

Caitlyn observed as Vi balled her fist.

"I'm glad you have faith in me. I'm glad that you are willing to go the extra mile to help me out. But let them see me for what I want to be." She took a long sip of her brew, then placed it down onto the heavy oak table. She tightened her jaw as she focused on her scarred hands holding the pint glass.

In this, Caitlyn observed the brawler before her. She was in her cracked leather jacket, brooding in the raised lapels. She had freshly shaved the side of her head, showing the dark pink roots. The scent of citrus and mint hit her nose as Vi straightened herself to sit upright. Her violet eyes bore into Caitlyn. They blazed with a determination that the sheriff had started to become quite accustomed to.

She had witnessed this determination a multitude of times in the past six months of Vi working with the precinct. It was normally accompanied by loud snarled curses and frustrated yells. It was smashing through a wall with a broken collarbone, whilst dodging bullets and protecting the hostage in her grasp. It was spitting in the face of political terrorists who threatened to blow the city to smithereens. It was her staying up all night to help prove the innocence of a street orphan who was facing charges of murder. It was her facing these almost impossible tasks with a crooked grin and a crack of her knuckles.

Caitlyn respected this determination, but she only wished the pinkette would give her on-the-fly plans a bit more thought.

"Why do you do this?" The brawler asked. Her voice was stern and serious. "Why put all of this effort when, no matter what, they're going to throw me out."

The sheriff takes a moment to mull over her statement. The tumbler clinks as she lets the ice and whiskey mingle more and more with each twist of her wrist. "Frankly, I am not quite sure, myself." She admits. "Maybe it because I know they can sense the potential in you. I understand your skepticism though; the old guard of the city council can be quite misogynistic. It took them a while to have full faith in me."

Their eyes meet for a moment. Caitlyn can see the gears slowly turn in Vi's head and it made the raven-haired woman curious.

Vi regards the sheriff in a new way. It isn't the usual brush off 'we'll deal with the situation as we go' kind of look that the brawler usually gives her.

Caitlyn can't help the small smile that tugs at her lips. "Be careful, Vi. If I didn't know any better it looks like I just earned some respect from you."

That troublesome smirk that drives the sheriff nearly up the wall, spreads through the pinkette's lips easily. "You should slow down on those Dragon Breaths, Sheriff. I think they're causing you to hallucinate."

They share a small chuckle between themselves.

"I think I like this side of you, Sheriff." Vi drawls as she finishes her drink. She signals to the bartender for another round, and the old smiling man nods.

Caitlyn raises an eyebrow, trying her best to not smile. "Don't get too used to it."


End file.
